Shattered
by ShockValueAuthor
Summary: The Behavioral Analysis Unit is facing a difficult case, and they need some expertise. Though what's to be expected when someone already knows who this is? Terrible Summary, sorry Please review; I love you people. Rated M for what will come. OC and ?
1. Chapter 1

It had been a slow week for the BAU. While file after file was piling up, any cases of use were yet to be found. Many employees at Quantico had chosen to take some time off; rightly so, if a workday was to be so uneventful.

There had been some problems with the weather. Unpredictable gusts of wind were constantly appearing; causing the sharp tapping of branches against windows, and the outbursts of one irritated Technical Analyst.

"This is ridiculous!"

Morgan stepped into the room she was in, unable to stifle a laugh. "What's got you all fired up, baby girl?"

"This," Garcia huffed, "This…_thing_, I can't even begin to tell you how much it's pissing me off." She pointed to the far right computer screen. "The wind is interfering with my connection." She gave him a weak smile. "Can you make it go away?"

"I'm only a god in your eyes, woman."

Her smile turned coy. "I think the many pretty ladies at that bar would disagree."

He let out something akin to a snort. "Don't start that again."

As he walked out she yelled out, "I'm telling you, if you let me give them your email I can prove you wrong-"

"It's still a no, Garcia!" He yelled back.

He was about to walk into the conference room when he noticed Rossi pacing back and forth in front of his office door.

"Rossi, you okay?" Morgan questioned. Rossi's eyes shot up to meet Morgan's, and he gave a thin smile.

"Fine. Do me a favor and get the team in there," He pointed to the conference room. "Hotch has something for us."

"He say what it was?"

"Not yet." Rossi came down the stairs, and clapped Morgan on the back. "But you can be sure that it's going to keep us busy."

A half-hour passed until the whole team was present. JJ was sitting down, fanning through a few photos in front of her while Reid was examining some of the notes he had scribbled onto the dry erase board. Emily was leaning against the wall, stirring her coffee with a straw. It stayed silent until Hotch cleared his throat and started handing out papers.

"…These were sent to us via an unknown source last night. Security checked the perimeter for any signs of forced entry, and saw nothing."

"So the person who gave us these had access to the building?" JJ asked, looking up and taking a paper.

"It's a possibility, but unlikely," Hotch said. "If they had direct access, it would've made more sense to simply drop these in a mailbox or on a office desk."

"Where were they found?" Emily pressed.

"A custodian found them in a folder, right underneath a window."

Morgan arched an eyebrow. "Inside? The windows have been locked shut because of the wind."

"That may be true, but the windows here have locking mechanisms on the outside and inside," Reid said quickly, glancing at the paper he was given before looking to Morgan. "While the inside ones are easier to spot, and thus quicker to use, the ones on the outside are generally located against the sides; practically wedged in between the glass and outer pane, mind you, and if you get your hands positioned correctly-"

"Long story short, the windows can be opened on the outside if you look hard enough." Morgan finished.

"Yes."

JJ studied the paper Hotch had given her. "This doesn't look like anything I'm used to seeing. What is it?"

"Its Sanskrit." Reid traced a finger along the edges of the paper. "Handwritten as well, it'd be hard to accumulate all of these symbols using the Internet, let alone understand them. A lot of what's here isn't used anymore."

Emily tilted her head to the side, flipping her paper over and examining the back. "These are copies, right? So where is the original?"

"All we received were copies with the photos." Hotch said flatly.

The photos were of three men and one woman. Each photo was the same; a slashed throat, a pale body void of clothing, and a branding of a small rose right below each victim's collarbone.

"It seems as though the one responsible for these murders is the photographer." Rossi walked to the table, pointing to each victim and sounding out names. "Richard Floyd, age 37. They found his wallet with him. Jason Bryce, 29. His sister identified him. Zachary Harrison, 34. Was wearing a medical ID bracelet."

"What was his condition?" Emily asked.

"The coroner said an allergy to penicillin." Rossi stated. "And then there was this woman. Elizabeth Fisk, 39."

Reid's eyes widened at the photo. "How was she identified?"

"She was found in her own house."

"Wait a minute," Morgan waved a hand, "Was she the only one at home?"

"Yes," Hotch swept his hand in the direction of all of the pictures. "The others were found in seemingly random areas; public park, alley behind a restaurant, and a summer home."

"Where any of the areas of relevance to the victims?"

"It doesn't seem that way," Hotch admitted, "But there is a very noticeable pattern with these deaths."

"The rose branding." Reid muttered.

"Yes, along with the lack of clothing and slashed throat. This unsub wants his victim's to feel vulnerable. He doesn't want them to put up a fight."

Morgan sighed. "Okay, I get that much. So why the Sanskrit?"

"It's another part of the signature. Sanskrit is an Indo-European language in use since c1200 B.C as the religious and classical literary language of India."

"Reid, what was that, a dictionary definition?"

He stared at Morgan for a second. "Webster's Unabridged, Second Edition. Why?"

"Forget I asked."

"Reid," Hotch got his attention. "Can you read Sanskrit?"

"No, I can't."

He turned to Emily. "Can you?"

She shook her head. "Arabic, yes. Sanskrit, no. Sorry Hotch."

"We can always get a translator," Rossi offered. "We have the sources."

Morgan whipped out his phone and dialed Garcia, putting her on speakerphone. "Hey baby girl, can you do me a favor?"

"Did you make that nasty wind go away?"

"I did my best."

"You so did not."

He laughed. "Can you find us a translator for Sanskrit?"

He heard the spastic rhythm of the keyboard being pummeled into use. "There are eight in Virginia."

Morgan looked at Hotch. "Any requests?"

"We need someone local."

"Local…Local…" Garcia chirped, "Three are closer to West Virginia. Two different ones are listed as away on a business trip. Another one is- that's so sad…"

"What?"

"One just put in prison for counterfeiting currency. I don't think you want that one…"

"No." Morgan agreed.

"Okay. The other two are local, and linguists. Both deal with Sanskrit."

Hotch was silent for a minute. "Who's more experienced?"

"Hold on…almost got it. One is fresh out of college with a BA in foreign language applications."

"The other?"

"This one is still in college; going for a psychology major. But she has more background with foreign stuff."

Rossi mouthed 'foreign stuff' to Morgan, and he simply shook his head.

"What kind of 'foreign stuff', baby girl?" Morgan teased.

Garcia ignored him. "She's done travel to Europe and Asia…let's see…attended Harvard for eight months as a translator for a student who spoke Icelandic…" She paused. "There's a lot of stuff here."

Hotch was in deep thought. "What languages does she speak?"

"It says here that she speaks fluent- it's a big list, how is that even human, anyway?"

"The list, Garcia." Morgan prompted.

"French and German are the main ones; she majored in those. But she studies Asiatic languages too, along with foreign text and symbolism, stuff I can't pronounce…"

"What's the address?"

"723 Bayberry Drive. It's about 4 miles from here."

"Okay, thank you Garcia."

"Anytime, my plushy." She hung up.

"Why did she call you a plushy?"

Morgan chuckled at Reid's confused expression. "It's a joke."

"I don't get it."

"You wouldn't."

JJ smiled. "So are we getting ourselves a translator?"

Hotch nodded. "Reid, you stay here with JJ and sort some of this stuff out. Morgan, Prentiss, Rossi; come with me. Call Garcia so we can get a name."


	2. Chapter 2

The drive to the woman's home was uneventful. Hotch was driving, with Rossi in the passenger seat, Emily and Morgan in the back.

Rossi pointed to a street sign. "This is the 700 block. Turn here."

Hotch veered to the right, going further until they reached the house. Stepping out of the car, everyone walked up the stone path to the door. The house itself was in a suburban area, pristine white with black shutters and a few plants along the walkway and underneath the windows. It looked recently remodeled.

Hotch knocked on the door. The sound of footsteps could be heard, then the door opened.

A young woman with long black hair was in the doorway, looking at all of them in bewilderment. "May I help you?"

"My name is Aaron Hotchner, we work for the FBI." Hotch kept his voice serious, professional. "These are agents Morgan, Prentiss, and Rossi."

She quirked an eyebrow. "Identification?"

As if on cue, they all flashed their badges.

She seemed to relax at the sight. "Alright then, now what is it you need?"

"Is Alexandra Holland available?" Rossi kept eye contact with the woman, mildly surprised that she did the same.

"That would be me." She said matter-of-factly. "I really hope this is important. I just fell asleep when you knocked on the door."

Morgan checked his watch. "It's two in the afternoon."

She gave a bitter smile. "I'm an insomniac. Mind you, it's not fun."

Hotch spoke again. "Ms. Holland, we are investigating the murders of four people. We believe the killer has sent us these." He handed one of the letters to her. She grasped it lightly, holding it to the light.

She said nothing for a few minutes. "This looks like Sanskrit. Why are you showing this to me?"

"We need a translator to help decipher what's written here." Emily explained.

"Try Google." In response to the blank expressions, Alexandra sighed. "Do I have time to dress?"

"Of course." Hotch said.

"Okay." She motioned to inside. "You all can come in. This wind is a nuisance, and I hardly believe you want to stay in this blasted weather."

Morgan's voice showed surprise. "You have an accent."

She looked at Morgan dryly. "I wasn't born in the United States." As she walked back inside, she beckoned them in. "Coffee? It's in the pot. Mugs are hanging from those hooks near the sink." She disappeared into another room.

When she left, Morgan looked around the house. "This doesn't look like a house a young woman would have. Too proper."

"Maybe it's her parents house," Emily offered.

"I guess." He eyed the coffee. "Smells good."

"Smells expensive." Alexandra came back out, dressed in a pair of black slacks and a dark purple dress shirt. Her hair was parted to the left, cascading down past her shoulders. Green eyes looked at Morgan warmly. "But it's enjoyable nonetheless. I have paper coffee cups. You can grab some so we can head out."


	3. Chapter 3

The return back was quiet. Alexandra was seated next to Morgan, wordlessly glancing out the window when something of interest caught her eye. Vaguely she felt that someone was watching her, and turned to face Emily.

"How are you?"

Emily gave a smile. "I'm doing okay, yourself?"

All three men rolled their eyes in wait of the conversation amongst the two women.

"Yes, I'm quite fine." Alexandra said, "Though this wind is really annoying me-"

"Okay, I can't take it anymore," Morgan turned to Alexandra, "Where are you from?"

She grinned. "You're a profiler, right? You figure it out. I'm sure my mannerisms will assist."

"British with a French flair." Rossi said, loud enough for everyone to hear.

Emily laughed, and upon noticing Hotch shake his head she stopped. "What's wrong with you?"

He said nothing, only pointed to the building as they rolled into the parking lot.

"Oh. Damn, we're here already?"

"Time flies when you're having fun." Rossi stated, stepping out of the car. The rest followed suit, Morgan and Alexandra carrying a cup of coffee each. Morgan took another sip of his as they all walked into the building.

Alexandra was busy looking at everything she saw, hardly paying attention to anyone until they reached the conference room. Before she could step inside, Hotch stopped her.

"We need to talk."

She took notice of the serious expression. "Have I done something wrong, Agent Hotchner?"

"Not necessarily. I want to be sure that you realize that this is not a game. We need serious people working with us. Understood?"

"You got it." She walked in behind Hotch, taking a drink from her coffee. She recognized Morgan and Prentiss, Rossi of course, but there was a blonde woman she didn't know fanning through papers.

Alexandra nudged Morgan in the arm. "Who's that?"

"Oh, sorry," The woman walked up to her, smiling. "My name is Agent Jennifer Jareau." She stuck out a hand. "You can call me JJ."

Alexandra grasped JJ's hand firmly, shaking it. "My name is Alexandra Holland. Nice to meet you."

Morgan looked around. "Where's Pretty Boy?"

JJ pointed to her door. "He went to get some coffee, I think. He'll be back in a few."

"Pretty Boy? Who the Hell is that?"

"Oh, that's Agent-"

"Hey, you're all back." Reid walked in, carrying his coffee mug. Alexandra turned to introduce herself, and succeeded in dropping her coffee onto her foot instead with a sharp squeak. Her face was some mix of confused, shocked, and maybe even happy. In some strange little way.

"Um, are you okay Alexandra?" Emily asked. She turned to Reid. "What about you?"

Morgan realized that Reid was staring at Alexandra. "You both look like you've seen a ghost."

Reid opened his mouth a few times, though no words came out. Finally Alexandra broke the silence.

"Spencer?"

He seemed to register that she said his name, because he nodded his head. "Alex?"

Morgan kept looking back and forth from the two. "You guys know each other?"

She smiled. "Oh yes. College." She walked up to Reid, giving him a warm look. "You look well. A bit sleep-deprived, but well."

"So says the insomniac." Reid said dryly.

"Hey, that's a medical condition, you twit. Be nice."

Rossi chuckled. "Were you a past girlfriend?"

Reid froze, and she laughed. "Definitely. He was amazing."

Reid glared at her. "Are you trying to embarrass me?"

"Are you still that skittish?" She retorted teasingly.

He decided to ignore her, or at least tried; walking up to the dry erase board and writing down specific information for the case. Everyone else seemed intent on hearing more about the earlier conversation, so she knew exactly what to say.

She waited until he took a drink of coffee. "Do you still have my bra?"

She laughed, watching him practically choke on his coffee. He looked at everyone else in the room, before quickly looking at her.

"What are you talking about?"

"You don't remember that little bet that we had? Seriously, it was a fifty-dollar bra. I want it back."

Reid gave her a once over. "I don't think you'd fit that size anymore. You've filled out more in, um, that department."

Morgan started laughing along with everyone else; even Hotch had let a small laugh out. "Damn, what'd you guys do in college?"

"Oh, not much other than work for class," She said smoothly, eyeing Reid as he began looking more uncomfortable. "But every now and then we'd come up with a bet. Silly, really. That's how he got my bra in the first place, which apparently he denies."

"What would you have gotten if you had won that time?"

"Alex…" Reid said warningly.

"I never picked my prize. But I did take him to a strip club once."

"Oh, really? How'd he like it?"

"Alex."

"Well, it was fun, and I got one of my friends to give him a lap dance."

"Alex."

"Awesome."

"Yeah, and it was really funny when she started taking off her-"

"Alex!" Reid snapped.

"No, Pretty Boy, I want to hear about this!" Morgan laughed.

"Me too." JJ and Emily said in unison.

Reid simply gave Hotch a look that blatantly said:

_Can you make her stop please help me God I'm going to die. _

He caved in. "Alright, we can talk about his later. We have work to do."

Alexandra nodded. "Okay." Tugging on Morgan's sleeve she whispered, though loud enough so Reid could hear, "Don't worry. I'll give details later."


	4. Chapter 4

JJ handed Alexandra a folder. "I hope you realize that these photos are very graphic. If you have any issues with-"

"I can whole-heartedly say that I'm used to horrifying images." She said softly. She flipped through a few of the photos, taking in the snapshots of pale flesh and dried blood. "I notice the rose-shaped burn. That would be the signature, right?"

"Another part of the signature is the Sanskrit," Hotch said, placing a copy of the letter in Alexandra's hand. "We need you to translate this."

She ran her fingers along the edges of the paper, trailing across the characters printed. She frowned slightly, digging a fingernail into the paper harder.

"Hey, that's evidence-" Morgan started.

Her eyes were narrowed in concentration. "…No color comes close to that of a rose except for that of blood. My supply will never cease. Blood red are my roses forevermore. Do not forget; you will never find me until my collection is through."

Emily looked taken aback. "That's what it said?"

Alexandra did not look up. "Yes. Though that wasn't Sanskrit I was reading."

Reid was sitting down, and his head quickly shot up in surprise. "Then what were you reading just now?"

She looked up and caught his expression. "I was…reading Braille."

"There's Braille on that paper?" Rossi asked incredulously.

"Better yet, you can read Braille?" Morgan asked.

"I…had surgery a few years back. It left me without eyesight for eight months. I couldn't spend that long without reading a book." In response to the blank stares she shook her head. "But I can see fine now. Either way, I think the Sanskrit was used as a cover. The characters are made to look like they are hand-written. The only reason you have copies in the first place is because you'd need to print the Braille properly. Though this seems to be a new model…with an older indentation mechanism. Harder to place."

"So this unsub had access to this sort of printer?" Emily took her paper from Alexandra, tracing her finger along the supposed grooves. "I feel something; I wouldn't have thought of Braille though."

"Anyone can get one as long as you have money," She said wearily. "It seems that way with everything nowadays."

Morgan tilted his head slightly in concern. "Are you all right? You look like you're going to be sick."

She shook her head. "No, I'm…fine. Just…" She smiled to Reid. "Like Spencer said, I'm an insomniac."

They spent 45 minutes reviewing the rest of the papers and photos; every letter had the same message. For the most part, Alexandra stayed out of the way, occasionally interjecting when her expertise could be used. She spent most of her time watching Reid, smiling to herself as he rambled on about statistics and, at least to her right now, obscure facts. He hadn't changed much; his mind was still sharp, and he obviously still had a taste for reading. But in the aspect of appearance…she could hardly believe she had recognized him. He was taller than she remembered; from the look of things just as thin. But the all-too-familiar style of clothing and speech patterns had given him away. Just barely, but enough.

Vaguely she noticed everyone get up from their positions at the table. She stood up from her chair near the window, a bit too quickly, and succeeded in falling down.

In less than a minute she felt two pairs of hands hoist her up; Morgan and Hotch had picked her up and sat her back down. She looked up at them, expectant of some type of interrogation from Agent Hotchner as to why she fell in the first place.

He didn't disappoint. "If you are ill, it would've been a smarter decision to remain at home. We could've found another person."

"I'm not sick, or at least, not that I'm aware of." She started slowly, eyes following Reid as he left the room quickly. JJ noticed too, but said nothing. "It's nothing contagious either, I promise."

Rossi quirked an eyebrow. "So what is it?"

She was about to respond when someone shoved a coffee mug in front of her. JJ chuckled.

"Spence, I don't think she wants anything to drink-"

He gave Alexandra a level stare. "Either take it, or I will shove it down your throat."

"Damn Reid, what was that for?"

He ignored Morgan. Sitting by Alexandra, perched onto the arm of the chair, he didn't speak until she gingerly took the cup. He turned his head. "Drink it."

She took a small sip. Reid sighed. "You are so stubborn."

Emily seemed confused. "Why…do I even want to know what's in there?" She pointed to the cup.

"Coffee." Reid said simply.

"But she was drinking coffee earlier. Why does it matter anyway?"

"I'm willing to bet it was straight black, right Morgan?" When Alexandra didn't answer, he continued. "And as a hypoglycemic, it's important to have some sugar in the system when feeling symptomatic."

"What the Hell is hypoglycemic?" Morgan asked.

"Low blood sugar. She has the kind that is less common; fasting hypoglycemia, which occurs with eating habits. The body requires glycol, or sugar, to function, so with a lack of said-"

A very pronounced gagging noise made everyone's attention turn back to Alexandra. She looked up, her face twisted in revulsion. "I'm sorry. I can't stomach this much sugar in one cup of coffee. Thank you, but I'll be fine without…this." She gestured to the cup in her hand.

Hotch fixed his gaze onto the dry erase board. "It'll be five o'clock soon; everybody can head home and we will regroup tomorrow."

As everyone headed out to the parking lot, Alexandra stayed close to Hotch. A slight glint from his hand caught her attention.

"You're married?"

"I was."

"Oh."

He shook his head. "I wear this right now as a reminder that I still love her; my son as well."

She brightened. "Your son?"

Hotch smiled. "His name is Jack."

"How nice."

He gave a thin smile. "Thank you. Now, in regards to your arrangements for travel. Do you drive?"

"I do, though my car has been totaled. I'm still waiting for the repairs to be finished. However, I still have means of getting here."

"And that would be what, exactly?"

She coughed, stifling a laugh. "I ride a motorcycle." In response to his look of disbelief she smiled. "I wanted a hobby that involved being outside. And gardening isn't my favorite thing to do."

He still looked skeptical, so she let it drop. "What time should I be here tomorrow?"

He checked his watch. "No later than nine o'clock."

She nodded, and walked ahead of him, waving to Morgan and Emily as she headed towards the edge of the parking lot. A hand grabbed her shoulder and she jumped. She turned sharply, almost falling. As she stumbled, Reid helped her balance, grinning.

"That was not funny."

"I thought so."

"No, I don't think so. I have issues with my balance, and since my diagnosis of insomnia and the like, I can assure you that startling me and making me almost fall is _not_ nice." She said teasingly.

He let her go when she could stand properly. "Consider us even. You harass me, I startle you. It works out as a compromise."

"What compromise are you talking about?"

He didn't answer her. Instead, he changed the subject. "Are you going through with medical school?"

"What?"

"You were talking in a very calm tone inside when necessary, which indicates personal responsibility, and your hand movements constitute precision in anything you handle. Not to mention that you have knowledge of many medical terms, diseases-"

"My knowledge has nothing to do with wanting to be in that profession. And you know that. Don't try and profile me when you already know about how I am."

He shrank back a little, and she realized how harsh she sounded. "Sorry. It's been, I don't know, years since I've seen you. Old habits die hard."

"I'm sorry too. I've been really bitchy lately. Not a very becoming trait."

"It happens. I'm sure you've been under a lot of stress lately."

"I'm not the one working as a member of the FBI, thank you very much. You look almost as tired as me-"

"After that nightmare with your niece when she kept you up for six straight hours by running around?" He added.

She smiled. "Sort of. Only I got over that."

As they were walking towards the car, Hotch waiting for Alexandra to get in, Reid gave her a slight hug.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow." As she turned he blinked. "Alex?"

She looked back. "Yeah?"

"What did you do to your niece anyway? You never told me."

She hopped into the passenger side of the car. Before closing the door, she laughed.

"…I locked her ass inside a cabinet in the kitchen."


End file.
